Ryoko Kui

Today’s super-sized Manga Revue comes to you courtesy of Patriot’s Day, my second favorite Massachusetts-only holiday. (The first is Evacuation Day, a thinly-disguised attempt to give Boston’s civil servants permission to skip work on St. Paddy’s.) In addition to a bumper crop of links, I have two reviews for you: volume four of D&D cooking extravaganza Delicious in Dungeon, and volumes three and four of everyone’s favorite backwoods culinary adventure Golden Kamuy. Looking back on food manga’s early history in the US, who could have predicted that readers would be feasting on such a wide array of titles in 2018, from Sweetness and Lightning and What Did You Eat Yesterday? to Giant Spider & Me: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale, Food Wars!! Shokugeki no Soma, and Toriko. Maybe the North American market is finally ready for an Iron Wok Jan renaissance…

If the first volume of Delicious in Dungeon was about assembling a posse, and the second and third about turning monsters into meals, then the fourth is about friendship — specifically, the strong emotional bond between Laois, Marcille, and Falin — and revenge, as the gang finally comes face-to-face with the Red Dragon. The showdown takes place inside a walled city whose narrow, maze-like streets give them a strategic advantage over their Godzilla-sized foe. And as exciting as the fight is, the real payoff is what follows, as Laois and Marcille discover that bringing Falin back from the dead isn’t a simple proposition. It’s in these moments that Ryoko Kui proves a more deft storyteller than we initially realized, effortlessly shifting gears from comedy to drama without mawkishness or cheap jokes. Instead, we’re allowed to contemplate the real horror of being eaten alive — as Falin was — and the real possibility of a character dying for good.

If I’ve made volume four sound like a bummer, rest assured it isn’t. Seshi gets his turn in the spotlight with a weaponized assortment of kitchen tools, while the rest of the gang endures its share of fumbles and miscommunications on the way to catching their dragon adversary. Though I suspect the next volume of Delicious in Dungeon will revert to a monster-of-the-week formula, that’s OK; Kui has firmly established her dramatic and culinary bonafides in volume four, leaving the door open for more character development in the future. Recommended.

Midway through volume four of Golden Kamuy, Asirpa builds a fox trap in the woods. “Do foxes taste good?” Sugimoto inquires. “No, not really,” Asirpa replies. “Tanuki have more fat in them and taste a lot better.” With a twinkle in her eye, she then asks, “But Sugimoto, don’t you want to try eating a fox?” A mildly exasperated Sugimoto replies, “You know, I’m not out here to try all the delicacies in Hokkaido.”

There are two ways to read this exchange: as a tacit admission that the cooking elements of Golden Kamuy sometimes occupy more real estate than the battles, or a tacit admission that the series is more compelling as a study of Ainu culture than a bloody frontier adventure. I vote for the second interpretation, as the series’ frequent detours into the food, medicine, and mythology of the Ainu are fascinating, offering a window into a culture that has been largely hidden from Western view. GoldenKamuyis on weaker footing, however, when focusing on its secondary characters and subplots. None of the other gold-seekers are fleshed out as carefully as Asirpa and Sugimoto, despite Satoru Noda’s efforts to give each villain a unique motivation for wanting the treasure. The newest baddie — Kazuo Hemni — exemplifies this problem to a tee: though he’s been given a particularly grisly backstory to explain his murderous proclivities, he’s such a textbook sociopath that he barely rises above the preternaturally-calm-and-savage type.

The art, too, sometimes has a perfunctory quality; in several scenes, Noda’s use of a Photoshopped background doesn’t mesh well with the hand-drawn elements, resulting in an awkward collage. Noda’s use of perspective can also be a distraction. He has difficulty drawing bodies to scale, especially when he’s depicting Asirpa and her family, some of whom look more like Smurfs than people in their head-to-body ratio.

Still, the camaraderie between Asirpa and Sugimoto, and the well-staged action scenes more than compensate for the occasional roughness of the execution or flatness of the characterizations. Golden Kamuy continues to entertain, horrify, and educate in equal measure — something I can’t say for any other manly-man manga that’s currently being published in English. Recommended.

Last week at Experiments in Manga I posted August’s Bookshelf Overload which lists the manga, comics, and other media that found their way into my home last month. Otherwise, it was fairly quiet here at the blog, but I did come across some great interviews elsewhere online: Paul Semel interviewed author Kazuki Sakuraba whose novel A Small Charred Face will be released in translation this week. (I actually recently reviewed the book; it’s well-worth picking up.) Susannah Greenblatt interviewed Motoyuki Shibata, one of the cofounders of the Monkey Business literary magazine, discussing translation and Japanese literature among other things. (I’ve previously reviewed some of the early issues of Monkey Business.) And for something a little more manga-centric, Brigid Alverson interviewed manga editor Yumi Sukimune who works with Akiko Higashimura on Princess Jellyfish (which I greatly enjoy) in addition to other series.

Delicious in Dungeon, Volume 2 by Ryoko Kui. I absolutely loved the first volume of Delicious in Dungeon and after reading the second volume my opinion of the series hasn’t changed–I still find it tremendously entertaining. The conceit of Delicious in Dungeon is fairly simple and straightforward. Basically, Kui has taken a dungeon-crawling adventure and turned it into a food manga. It’s a brilliant combination of subgenres with endless possibilities when it comes to the sheer variety monsters that could end up as a meal for the manga’s protagonists. While this alone could carry the series a fair distance (especially considering the immense creativity Kui exhibits in how fantasy creatures might be used to either directly or indirectly support an adventurer’s diet), Delicious in Dungeon also benefits from having a main cast that largely consists of a bunch of endearing goofballs. Kui has also started to expand on the actual worldbuilding of the series, too. While the manga still relies fairly heavily on the well-established tropes of fantasy role-playing games, small details are being introduced that make the setting of Delicious in Dungeon a little less generic. Of course, part of the series’ humor and charm is firmly based on Kui taking familiar fantasy elements and twisting them just a bit. It’s all great fun.

Sweetness & Lightning, Volumes 6-7 by Gido Amagakure. Although I love food manga, I never generally read a particular title thinking that I’ll actually make any of the recipes that might be contained within it. If I ever did, though, Sweetness & Lightning is probably the series that I would turn to. Since the main characters are in the process of learning to cook (and one of them is a preschooler about to start kindergarten), the dishes that they tackle typically tend to be within the reach of a beginner and aren’t usually overly-complicated. The fact that Sweetness & Lightning is a food manga is what initially brought the series to my attention, but at this point it’s really the characters which keep me coming back for more. I’m particularly impressed by the portrayal of the father-daughter relationship between Inuzuka and Tsumugi. Amagakure is also incredibly successful in depicting little kids in a convincing way. Sweetness & Lightning is in turns adorable and bittersweet, and these two volumes have some especially poignant and heartbreaking moments. Since Tsumugi is so young she still doesn’t entirely understand the death of her mother and Inuzuka still grieves the loss of his wife. But the sixth and seventh volumes also introduce more members of their extended family which was lovely.

What Did You Eat Yesterday?, Volume 12 by Fumi Yoshinaga. The English-language edition of What Did You Eat Yesterday? has essentially caught up with the original Japanese release so the individual aren’t published as frequently as they once were, but I’m always very happy to get my hands on the latest installment in the series. The food in What Did You Eat Yesterday? is beautifully illustrated from start to finish. The individual ingredients, the techniques used, and the resulting dishes are wonderfully and realistically rendered. Visually, the people in What Did You Eat Yesterday? aren’t nearly as detailed as the food they are eating, but the believably complex and nuanced characterizations in the series is exceptional. The characters certainly have their personal flaws and Yoshinaga isn’t afraid to reveal them; rather than portraying some sort of romanticized ideal, Yoshinaga captures the messiness of real-life relationships in the series. It’s an approach that I particularly appreciate. What Did You Eat Yesterday? follows the day-to-day lives of two adult men who are in a committed, long-term relationship with each other which of course is something that I also greatly value. At times the food aspects of What Did You Eat Yesterday? seem tangential to everything else going on, but it’s still a great series.

New York Times television critic James Poniewozik recently posted an essay on the defining problem of the streaming era: the show that takes 10 or 20 episodes to find its footing. Should you start watching from the beginning no matter what, or is it OK to skip ahead to the section where the characters, premise, and plot finally gel?

This question has obvious implications for manga readers, since many series’ debut volumes are plodding, incoherent, or so focused on laying the groundwork for developments in chapter 30 that they’re a chore to read. Poniewozik gives his blessing to folks who want to get to the good stuff, noting the degree to which television shows evolve in response to viewer and critical feedback, just like manga. “TV is an improvisatory art,” he notes, arguing that it’s “misleading to treat most series, even the greats, like fully formed wholes set down according to careful design.” So if you’ve heard that the first volume of From Eroica With Love is a dud, you have Poniewozik’s blessing to start with volume two.

MANGA, ANIME, AND JAPANESE POP CULTURE

Tokyo Ghoul, The Legend of Zelda, My Hero Academia, and My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness all made strong showings on the June 2017 BookScan Top 20 Adult Graphic Fiction chart, as did Rep. John Lewis’ March: Book One and Greg Rucka’s Wonder Woman. [ICv2]

Alex Wong interviews cartoonist Hellen Jo about translating Yeon-sik Hong’s Uncomfortably Happily for Drawn & Quarterly. “Each language is a system of words, connotations, innuendo, context, unspoken intentions, and none of it is exactly equal to its foreign counterparts,” she explains. “I think a good translation is mindful of that fact, and tries to re-interpret the intent behind the words for the new audience. I may not have been able to provide an exact translation, because an exact translation cannot truly exist, but I did my best to bring the intention and meaning and context of each and every page to the English reader.” [The Comics Journal]

Why do local comic stores have so much difficulty connecting with manga readers? That’s the question Deb Aoki asked Twitter users last week. She then compiled her conversations with fans, critics, creators, and shop owners into a lengthy, fascinating article. [Manga Comics Manga]

VIZ revealed its publishing plans for early 2018. Joining the company’s roster are Fire Punch, a fantasy series set during an ice age, and Kenka Bancho Otome: Girl Beats Boys, a gender-bending shojo comedy based on a popular video game. VIZ will also be publishing a new, deluxe edition of perennial fave Fullmetal Alchemist. [VIZ Media]

Not to be outdone, Seven Seas announced the acquisition of 10 new manga and light novel titles, including the latest chapter in the orange saga. [Seven Seas]

Martin de la Iglesia dives into the world of anime voice acting with a look at voice actors who became idols in their own right. [The 650-Cent Plague]

Speaking of anime, the writers of Anime Feminist have just compiled their list of the spring’s best TV series, from “problematic favorites” like Attack on Titan to “feminist friendly favorites” like The Eccentric Family. [Anime Feminist]

COMICS

These images of Lupita Nyong’o and Danai Gurira have vaulted Black Pantherto the top of my 2018 must-see movie list.[Geeks of Color]

Over at NPR, Glen Wheldon and Petra Mayer compile a list of the 100 Best Comics and Graphic Novels. On the whole, their taste is pretty catholic; it’s hard to argue with the inclusion of Watchmen and One Piece. My only complaint is that the categories are a little reductive. I’m not sure why The Color of Earth trilogy is a “graphic novel” and AKIRA isn’t, or why none of the manga titles are listed under “serialized comics.” Still, the list offers something for everyone — a welcome acknowledgment of just how diverse comic readership really is. [NPR]

Wheldon has also compiled a list of 10 Comics That Changed the Game, a decade-by-decade survey of influential titles from Osamu Tezuka’s Astro Boy to Will Eisner’s A Contract with God. [NPR]

Last week at Experiments in Manga, I announced the winner of the Anonymous Noise give away. The post also includes a list of manga which have characters who have notable singing voices. I got a particularly kick out of the fact that not all of the manga were necessarily music manga. Also, a bit of a heads up: I’m switching around my usual posting schedule. Normally the second week of the month would be devoted to the Bookshelf Overload feature, but I’ll be posting an in-depth review this week instead–Yeon-Sik Hong’s award winning manhwa Uncomfortably Happily is being released in English by Drawn & Quarterly on Tuesday and I’m working on putting the finishing touches on my write-up. Spoilers: I enjoyed the work immensely.

As for interesting reading elsewhere online: Hitomi Yoshio, a professor and translator, wrote a little about teaching Japanese Literature in Translation. And speaking of Japanese literature in translation, it looks like the second volume of Yu Godai’s Quantum Devil Saga: Avatar Tuner will finally be released sometime later this summer. (I enjoyed the first volume a great deal when it was published three years ago and sincerely hope that the wait between future volumes is much shorter.) I’ve known about the upcoming translation of Kazuki Sakuraba’s A Small Charred Face for a while, but now it’s official–Haikasoru will be releasing the novel in the fall. Sakuraba may best be known as the creator of Gosick, but my introduction to author’s work was through Red Girls: The Legend of the Akakuchibas, which I loved. Finally, I’d like to draw attention a series of fascinating Golden Kamuy Cultural Notes & Video References put together by @zeppelichi on Twitter.

Quick Takes

Blinded by the Ice by Saicoink (An Nguyen). In general, I don’t buy very many fan works or doujinshi, generally preferring to support artists’ original comics over their explorations of other people’s creations. However, I do occasionally make exceptions and I was very excited for Saicoink’s Yuri!!! on Ice fan book Blinded by the Ice. In addition to some bonus comics, illustrations, and research notes, the volume focuses on two main stories. The first and longest, Don’t Leave Me This Way, was probably my favorite comic of the two. I enjoyed Makes Me Think of You as well–it’s a charming and sweet holiday story which takes place after most of the events of the original anime series–but Don’t Leave Me This Way is the one that really impressed me. The comic is set in the late seventies and early eighties, featuring an alternative universe in which Victor and Yuri’s relationship must develop over both time and distance due to the fact that Victor is a high-profile athlete for the USSR. The only time the two of them can really meet in person is during competitions and even then it is very challenging and difficult. Blinded by the Ice is fantastic; I love the humor and insight that Saicoink brings to the stories and the time and effort Saicoink put into research really pays off, too.

Delicious in Dungeon, Volume 1 by Ryoko Kui. I enjoy tabletop role-playing games (or at least enjoy being present while other people are playing them) and I love food manga, so Delicious in Dungeon was a series that immediately caught my attention. The groups that I’ve played pen and paper RPGs with actually tended to devote a fair amount of attention to the food within the games. Our adventures never quite turned out how it does for Laois and his dungeoning companions, though. When, partially due to hunger, his party is nearly wiped out by a dragon, Laois and the other survivors find themselves facing the prospect of having to launch a rescue mission to save one of their own. There’s just one problem: their supplies are limited and they don’t have any food. And so Laois proposes that they simply find what they need to eat and sustain themselves inside the dungeon itself, something that he’s apparently been wanting to try for a very long time. The others, on the other hand, are much more skeptical. Conveniently, they are all fortunate enough to meet a dwarf who is much more skilled and experienced than Laois when it comes to making monsters palatable. The conceit of Delicious in Dungeon is frankly brilliant. Unsurprisingly, I loved the first volume of the series and definitely plan on reading more.

Descending Stories: Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju, Volume 1 by Haruko Kumota. Although I haven’t actually had the opportunity to watch it yet, Kumota’s manga series Descending Stories was first brought to my attention due to its recent anime adaptation. The excitement surrounding the anime and the licensing of the original manga made Descending Stories one of the debuts I was most looking forward to in 2017; I was not disappointed. Rakugo is a traditional Japanese performance art which isn’t as popular as it once was but still has a devoted following. Familiarity with rakugo isn’t at all necessary to enjoy Descending Stories, but readers who have at least some basic understanding of it will likely get even more out of the series. But while rakugo is an important and interesting part of Descending Stories, it’s the relationships and drama between the characters that really make the manga so engrossing and compelling. Kyoji is an outgoing young man who has recently been released from prison. Curiously, the first thing he does with his freedom is to seek out Yakumo, a famous rakugo artist, and demand to become his apprentice. Up until this point Yakumo has always rejected those who want to study under him, but to everyone’s surprise on a whim takes Kyoji into his household.

Food manga comes in two flavors: the tournament series, in which a brash young baker or chef enters cook-offs that stretch his culinary skills to the limit, and the food-is-life series, in which family, friends, or colleagues prepare food together, resolving their differences over tasty dishes. Delicious in Dungeon straddles the fence between these two types by combining elements of a role-playing game, cooking show, and workplace comedy. Expressed as a recipe, the formula for volume one might look something like this:

Though that recipe sounds unappetizing — the manga equivalent of a herring-and-banana smoothie — Delicious in Dungeon is surprisingly good.

Volume one plunges us into the action, pitting a team of warriors and spell-casters against an enormous dragon. Though all six fighters are experienced, they’re so compromised by hunger that they make silly mistakes that result in one member getting eaten. When the team regroups, two members defect to another guild, leaving just Laois, a knight, Chilchuck, a “pick-lock,” and Marcille, an elf magician. The three resolve to rescue Laois’ sister from the Red Dragon’s belly, but their chronic lack of funds forces them to adopt a novel cost-saving strategy: foraging for food inside the dungeon instead buying supplies for the mission.

The trio soon learns that catching and cooking monsters is harder than it looks. Despite the astonishing variety of creatures and man-eating plants that inhabit the dungeon, almost none appear to be edible: some have stingers or hard shells, while others are so disgusting that no one can imagine how to prepare them. When Senshi, a dwarf, volunteers his culinary services, the group is pleasantly surprised by his ability to transform the most unpromising specimen into a delicious array of soups, tempuras, and jerkies. Even more impressive is Senshi’s ability to improvise the tools he needs to make gourmet dishes; he’s the D&D answer to Angus MacGyver.

Subsequent chapters follow a similar template: the group enters a new area of the dungeon, encounters new monsters, and devises new ways to cook them. What prevents this basic plotline from growing stale is Ryoko Kui’s imaginative artwork. Every chapter is studded with charts and diagrams illustrating the dietary habits of dungeon crawlers and the unusual anatomy of dungeon dwellers, from slime molds to basilisks. These meticulous drawings provide a natural jumping-off point for Senshi to wax poetic about the flavor of dried slime, or describe the safest method of harvesting mandrakes.

By contrast, the backgrounds resemble the kind of generic settings of early computer RPGs, providing just enough detail — cobblestone hallways, winding staircases — to establish each location. That allows Kui to lavish attention on the monsters and people — a wise decision, I think, since the artwork plays such a vital role in establishing each character’s personality and powers. Marcille, for example, is a worrywart, her semi-permanent frown mirrored by the angle and shape of her ears. Though her peevish monologues suggest that she’s food-phobic, her slumping posture and clumsy attempts at spell-casting tell a different story: Marcille feels superfluous, and longs for an opportunity to demonstrate her usefulness to the group. Chilchuck, by contrast, is small and nimble; his child-like size belies his maturity and skill as a locksmith and minesweeper, while his cat-like movements remind us that he’s not fully human. (The other characters refer to him as a “halfling.”)

If the series’ rhythm is predictable and the jokes sometimes obvious — one character declares that basilisk “tastes like chicken” — the specificity of Kui’s vision keeps Delicious in Dungeon afloat. Every chapter yields a funky new monster and an even funkier recipe from Senshi — all rendered in precise detail — while the script has the rhythm of a great workplace sitcom; it’s a bit like watching The Office or WKRP in Cincinnati, but with jokes about the merits of giant scorpion meat instead of arguments about the annual Christmas party. I don’t know if I’d want to read 10 or 20 volumes of Delicious in Dungeon, but I’m eager to see where the next installment goes.